


Cures

by Li_La_Lou



Series: Losers Club | Superhuman!Au [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Gen, Ghost!Ben, Hurt/Comfort, IT never existed, M/M, Magic, Meet-Cute, Multi, Mutual Pining, Naturespirit!Beverly, Shapeshifter!Stan, Superhuman, Superhuman Au, Witcher!Eddie, werewolf!richie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:07:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22196032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Li_La_Lou/pseuds/Li_La_Lou
Summary: The mayor's daughter died. And who would it be easier to blame it on, than the kid who involuntarily turns into a monster some night?To escape the villagers' cruel judgement, Richie Tozier figures it is his best option to leave his home until he finds out how to get rid of the beast in his veins. A friendly, though long deceased, library assistant tells him about someone who might just be able to have a cure for Richie's problam. Richie of course takes the shot.The local witcher faces the challenge. It comes with some Ups and Downs.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Losers Club | Superhuman!Au [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597729
Comments: 24
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the beginnig of a whole Superhuman!Au that I am doing for the Losers Club. See it as a sort of Pilot Episode.  
> There is gonna be more, and more eliborate. The are gonna be own storylines for other ships.  
> I just want you to know, that this is just sort of a teaser. The real thing is gonna be ... kinda more.

The air smelled like fall. Like decay and wet wood and cold wind. As a kid, Richie had loved fall over any other season and the scent still provided comfort.  
The leafs, dried by the cold but merciless sunlight finding its way through the thinned out treetops, crunched under his feet. He looked down and grimly noticed that his shoes had seen better days. Not that he cared much for fashion. There was nobody nearby he would need to impress anyway.  
In fact, there seem to be nobody around at all. Which, under any other circumstance, would have suited Richie just fine. He wasn’t too eager to cross path with strangers. However, the only reason for him to be in this part of the forest, in so deep that one could easily forget that civilization was an actual thing, was to find someone. Someone he had been told about my one of those wise souls from his hometown everyone would trust with their lives without second thoughts. And, so God help him, he was trusting said wise soul with his life here for this was the last chance he saw.

Ben had been very cooperative. Kind even. Richie assumed that, being already dead, Ben didn’t have a real reason to be frightened of someone like him. As far as he knew, ghosts could only be touched if they allowed it and who would voluntarily be touched by a murderous beast. If things came to the extreme, Ben could always just vanish into thin air. That was the reason why he was able to be calm around Richie, so the boy assumed.  
It didn’t matter to him.  
The last few weeks before his encounter with the deceased library assistant had been rough. Honestly, the past years hadn’t been looking very rosy for him but things had started to gain momentum after an accident with the mayor’s daughter. One night, somewhen in late summer, she had been strolling near the edge of the forest, she had been attacked. The offender remained unseen, the only trache left of them were deep flesh wounds in the poor girls side and back, going all the way down from her mid back to her bum.

From what the girl told her father, and later the town guards, about how she had been lying there in the dirt with her face pressed into the ground for several, horrifying minute, with something sharp coming out of the nights dark, injecting burning pain into her body, foreseeing her own death, one might have been able to tell, that this seemed to be a very long time for one single blow of a monstrous being. 

From what the doctor who examined her injuries saw, the cause of the deep and surprisingly clean cuts was a knife rather than an inhumanly strong claw.

From the rumors heard between her friends, there had been a boy who liked her and whom she didn’t like back and who had seem to be taking severe offence it her rejection. 

But Richie knew none of these things, because no one bothered to spread the news of those curious coincidences. Because with a ferocious creature to blame it on, who would bother to unnecessarily spin things out? It was a perfect explanation that nobody cared to question. Not even Richie.  
The words of those, thinking him a monster, had sunk deep into his mind. Whenever it happened, whenever control slipped from his hands and the part of him that he didn’t want but couldn’t shake came to live, his memory wasn’t what it was ought to be. It was foggy and blurred. He could recall some things. Smells. Sights. But more than once he had awaken some place he never remembered going, on the worst days, with the disassembled corpse of some sheep or deer near him. He would throw up then, feeling sick with guilt and the thought of having eaten that.  
He had never hurt a human being before but from all he knew, all the citizen had told him, it was within the realms of possibility. Perhaps likely even.  
The idea alone nearly drove Richie mad. It was only for the fact that his parents were well-liked people in his small-hometown, that no angry mob came to hunt him down. They insisted, that it wasn’t his fault because he couldn’t help what he was doing when he was in that state. Insisted that it wasn’t fair to blame a boy for something a monster had done.  
More than once, Richie had lain awake at night, thinking how not even his parents had any doubt that he was the one who hurt the girl.  
While his parents’ words did an alright job at keeping Richie safe from the public’s rage, it failed miserably at keeping the hostile feelings at bay. It was oil in their fire even.

It was then, that Richie shunned leaving the house. The glances, the talk, it was too much for him to take. And just because there was a collective agreement that it would be wrong to kill him, that didn’t mean people wouldn’t hurt him bad.  
When he tried to go out, more often than not he would come home with black eyes and split lips and dried tears on his stained face.  
It seemed to pain his parents just as much, but then again, what were they ought to do? If there was a way for them to take out of Richie’s blood whatever it was that made him sometimes turn into something that shouldn’t even exist outside of children’s nightmares, he was sure they would have done it by now.  
What kind of son would he be, if he had forced them to endure this any longer than they must? A real monster, honestly.  
So he had decided to pack his very few own belongings and do a runner unsung. Everyone was better of like that for now, even himself. And if he found a solution to his problem, he could always return and finally life the peaceful life everyone else got to live.

Looking back at it now, Richie didn’t know what exactly it was that had drawn him to the library that day. Maybe it was a sense of belonging. So many odd stories were housed in those halls, his didn’t stand out anymore. Maybe it was just because it was near the edge of town and he had no real idea where to head yet. Some might even think it fate but Richie didn’t believe in this kind of stuff.  
In the end, it didn’t matter. What mattered was, that he had been there. The cool air inside pleasantly welcoming him, he looked around. He remembered thinking, only half coherent, that he could maybe snatch a map of the area so at least he wouldn’t get lost, aimlessly wandering around. His parents had taught him better than to steal, particularly not from a library, a place of wisedon. But desperate times call for desperate measures. Richie lacked other options, with the little money he had strictly limited (he didn’t know how long he would be gone after all) and considering how he had been treated (whether he deserved it or not, the jury in his head was still out on this, even though the one in his heart knew he couldn’t have done it) he didn’t feel too guilty taking something as easily replaceable as a map out of their sacred library.  
Little did he know, that it weren’t the citizens who would be severely upset if he tried to take something away. 

Richie knew the rumors. Every kid in his small hometown did. Of the ghost that was ought to haunt this old building. Some children even claimed that they had seen him, a half see-through figure in old-fashioned clothes, wandering around the halls.  
But Richie believed about as much in ghosts as he believed in fate.  
He found himself corrected, as he tried to sneak out of the front door again, with a folded map neatly tucked into the waistband of his pants and covered by his shirt.  
“Oh, I’m afraid you must inform the librarian if want to borrow this”, a voice said behind him, when Richie was already halfway out, scaring him nearly to death.  
He turned around, ready to give hell to whoever had the audacity to do this to his poor, little heart. The snappy remark got stuck in his throat, as the owner of the voice came into vision. All color dropped from Richie’s face. He wanted to scream and made no sound. He wanted to run and couldn’t move. He could see his reality shatter like someone had thrown a rock into a window. 

The semitransparent fellow in front of Richie, didn’t look all too ghostly. With his arms crossed in front of the plump torso, he looked a lot more like a pouting child. The sight of him still made Richie tremble.  
“Cat got your tongue?”, the phantom said, his features softening. No, not phantom. Phantasm. I had to be that, there was no other way.  
“It’s just exhausted from going down on your mother.” The worlds fell out of Richie’s not quite on his behalf. If this was only an image his mind casted, ccasted perhaps because he was feeling more guilty about stealing than he realised, this couldn’t hurt him anyway.  
For a moment, there was silent, so gravely that Richie came to wonder if perhaps he was dead himself. Then, the silence was broken by the clear and almost childlike laughter of Richie’s defunct opponent. For a second there, Richie was stunned. Baffled, he stared at (through) the boy, who must have died when he was around the age Richie was now, not sure if he should join his laughing or start screaming at the top of his lungs.  
“Wow, that was bad”, the ghostboy said, still giggling, and wiped his eye with his finger. “Seriously though, please put that map back.”  
Still a bit dumbfounded, Richie could only nod. As he walked back into the library and away from the door, he felt like a kid, trying to climb up the slide on the playground, reaching for the top edge but continuously slipping further away.

“What did you even want with this? It’s not even very up-to-date”, the ghost remarked as Richie put the map back at its rightful place.  
“Wanted to find my way. ‘T was the first map I saw”, Richie muttered, looking at his shoes, not as dirty yet back then, on the smooth marble tiles.  
“Well, where do you want to go? Perhaps I’ll be able to help”, the ghost offered, smiling kindly. “Oh, I am Ben Hanscom by the way!”, he then quickly added, as if he had just come up with that, and reached out his hand. Richie, absentmindedly and out reflex, shook it. Immediately his eyes widened and he started at their locked hands.  
“Richie Tozier.”  
Shaking a ghosts hand, what a crazy thing to do. The touch was firm, surprisingly enough, and cold, but not as cold as Richie imagined it would be like to touch a corpse but rather like when someone just came in from outside.  
“I… don’t believe so, Ben…”, he said hesitatingly, eyeing the boy up and down with suspicion. His mind was adapting to the concept of a ghost being right there in front of him. He wasn’t exactly happy about it but he was starting to believe it, all right. “I just want to get away.”  
“Many ways lead there”,Ben replied, a soft expression of understanding in his eyes. “If there is no particular place you want to go to… what are you trying to find then?”  
The question felt like a cold blade in his guts, drawing hot blood. Richie ran his tongue over his lips, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. “That’s a tough one”, he replied, his voice waving with a nervous laugh.  
Ben, happy to have some interesting company for once and unwilling to let go of it too soon, made a gesture towards a conversation pit in the back of the library. “Be my guest.”  
“You lack french accent to say that”, Richie muttered but did take a seat. 

Richie’s determined intent had been to tell Ben the bare minimum that would get him out of here as soon as possible. He ended up sharing the whole story, with every detail he remembered.  
Perhaps he could have stopped talking halfway through and there even was a faint voice in the back of his consciousness, telling him to shut it. It was just that Ben was a good listener, sat quiet and calm, paying attention to Richie’s words with no hint of judgement in his eyes. And it felt good. It felt so good to finally open up.  
It was like poking a hole into a balloon, you could wish as much as you want for the air to slowly stream out but in thr end it would burst out anyway.  
Ben was understanding enough. People were scared of ghosts, all right. He could relate to that much. Of course he probably didn’t lose control over his very being and slaughtered sheeps and maybe mayor daughters in a crazy state of brutal semi-unconsciousness. No one would be able to relate to that part. To Richie it was enough to just have someone who wouldn’t run though.  
“The way I see it,”, Ben said once Richie was done talking, thoughtfully kneading his bottom lip, “you need someone who knows a fair share about magical issues.”  
“Do… Does this qualify as magical?”, Richie asked, trying to brush some tears out of the corners of his eyes as inconspicuously as possible. “I thought magic was supposed to be nice and fun.”  
“Most of it is really grim, actually”, Ben replied, smiling almost sympathetically, as if to say, sorry, you caught the bad part of it. “Though, as far as I know, most magic can be reversed. So maybe an expert will be able to do something about it.”  
Richie’s face lit up, his posture straightened. “And you know and expert like that?”  
“I might just do”, Ben replied, sounding somewhat lost in thoughts. As he got up, Richie just silently followed him, even though he wasn’t sure he was ought to.  
Ben’s mouth was working, as if muttering soundless words to himself. The ghost’s finger glided over book spines and crystalline showcases without leaving a trace in the thick layer of dust.  
Richie tried to remain silent for as long as he could but eventually the curiosity got too much to bear. “Hey, Casper, are we searching for something in particular or are we just taking a stroll?”  
Ben looked over his shoulder, appearing a bit startled as if he had nearly forgotten Richie’s presents. Nothing the boy wasn’t used to by now. But the smile that then appeared on Ben’s face was warm enough. “We are indeed looking for something. A few newspaper articles.”  
The excitement in Richie’s eyes died down. Newspapers were boring and ordinary. He had expected secret scripts, forbidden books, writings that would drive any mortal insane who dared to lay an eye on them. And all he got were newspapers.  
The disappointment was easily readable in his eyes apparently, because it drew a mild chuckle from Ben. “I know how it sounds but it is in fact very fascinating. Just think about it. Books have been brought to this library from all over the world and some are centuries old. Of course that’s thrilling, considering the individual story each of them bears. Inside the pages and the book itself. But newspapers are local and most of the time rather contemporary. At least compared to the books here. Now isn’t it exciting to learn about the things that happened so close to us, talking time and space alike?”  
“Uhu, I guess so”, Richie said, not excited at all.  
If there was anyone living in this goddamn town, able to help him, that person had down a terrific job on hiding such power. Either someone like this didn’t want to help him out or didn’t exist at all. Richie could feel his hopes crumble down again. 

“I do remember a case- someone who lived in a village nearby a few years ago”, Ben just went on despite Rich’s lack of enthusiasm. “He was pretty good when it came to… things like these.”  
“Things like these”, Richie echoed, nodding with his eyebrows lifted. He wasn’t really buying it but did he really have other options? He sighed and shook his head, sending his ebony curls dancing around his head. “Alright, man. Do your worst.”  
Ben just smiled and went on looking for the said article.  
The place was pretty well organized, Ben didn’t take too long to find what he had been searching. Shortly after, they were sitting in the conversation pit again, a set of yellowed pages spread out on the aged coffee table in front of them.  
“Eddie Kaspbrak, huh…? Never heard of a guy with that name”, Richie stated, leaning over the old prints.  
“As I said, he lived in a village nearby. Only a few reports actually made it across the borders of that village. As far as I know, his mother took care of that.” Ben shook his head, a sort of sadness lingered in his eyes, not quite there but almost. He blinked it away and pointed to one of the articles. “Anyway. Rumor has it that he left the village to find a more peaceful life in the woods.”  
Smart kid, Richie thought.  
“Story got a bit blurred since then. Some kids said they saw a small house in the woods. I just assumed that must be him. Gut feeling, you know.”  
Richie nodded.  
“And it would match with some other tales I’ve heard, of travelers crossing that forest, experiencing strange things. Magical things.”  
“If he wants to hide there, that’s probably not the most efficient way”, Richie snortet. Ben shrugged. Then he got up again.  
When he came back, he held a map in his hand.  
“Ah say!”, Richie exclaimed. “So I do get to take a map, he?”  
“This one is a pamphlet for tourists, Richie, not a historic artifact. You see the difference, don’t you?”, Ben replied in that calm tone adults use when they tell kids that they are mistaking. Richie thought that it was a tone not quite matching Ben’s young face but then again, he didn’t know how old Ben really was so it was probably fair game.

Richie watched Ben draw a cross on the map with a thick, black marker, seemingly at random. It was so deep in the woods that even the thin trails the map showed had faded. Landmarks like hills and rivers, that were colorfully illustrated and probably not on scale as Richie feared, were the only guide of orientation.  
Richie didn’t fear getting lost in those woods, though. He had ofen played there when he was a child. Went in much deeper than his parents would have ever allowed him to. And yet he had always found his way out.  
he snatched the map from Ben, grabbing it with both hands and taking a good look. “How long?”  
“I’d say about a days hike. Roundabout. Depends on how early it gets dark today and the condition of the path.”  
“That’s manageable”, Richie decided. He folded the map in half a few times and safely stored it in his pocket.  
“If I was you-”, Ben said, stopping Richie in his movement, “-I would bring him a gift. He didn’t demand payment, as far as I know, but you know how things are, it’s always a good thing to have people be fond of oneself.”  
“Have people be fond of oneself”, Richie mimicked, followed by a quiet, good-hearted cackle. “Jeez, you really do talk like a ghost. Anyway, I owe you a debt of profound gratitude, my fine sir. I shall take heed of your advice, take it to heart, I will”, he then added in the voice of an english gentleman, teasing and thankful alike.  
Ben returned the smile and clapped his hand on Richie’s back. A shiver ran down the boy’s spine. “Have a safe journey, my friend.”

As Richie toddled through the depths of the forest, his mind trapped bouncing between the memory of his talk with Ben and the wonder what was awaiting him.  
His fingers repeatingly tightened and loosened around the gift in his hand. Like most teen boys still living with their parents (until recent at least) Richie didn’t have many belongings on his own. Even less of any real worth. There was only one thing he owned, which he considered precious enough to offer someone who might be able to fix him.  
He was aware that the net of marbles he was fiddling with had more of an sentimental value. He also knew that he was probably too old to still be this fond of the shiny-smooth orbs. But back in the days - back when he still had friends - he had won a good couple of games with them and he had always appreciated their service.  
And since there was hardly anything else he had bothered to take along to his possibly indefinite journey, this would have to do.  
He noticed that he was whistling, but it was a distance awareness. Like how you get distantly aware of hunger when you’re focused on a task. Richie was whistling, not to get rid of the quiet but because the forest wasn’t quite at all. The cracks of branches, the low howling of the rushed wind, the growls and hisses that perhaps only existed in Richie’s head but on the other hand, what if not? - all of that formed a wicked tune. It made him feel miserable. Exposed somehow, and terribly alone. The whistling wasn’t really helping the cause but it would feel weirdly unnatural to stop now too.  
A chilling wind roughed his hair. He shuddered. To make things worse, Richie couldn’t no longer neglect that the sun was rapidly lowering. Soon it would be dark in the village and probably pitch black in these woods. He wasn’t exactly scared of the dark, because only babies feared the night, but it wasn’t making the situation any more welcoming.  
He wouldn’t admit it, because he was too proud and because it couldn’t afford it, but the unease in Richie’s guts was steadily growing towards good, ol’ fear.  
He had to find this Kaspbrak-Witch-Boy and he had to find him fast. After nightfall he wasn’t very likely to get much further with his search. He secretly hoped that where he found the witch, he would find shelter for the night as well. 

At least the nearing nightfall didn’t blind him. Richie could see perfectly well in the darkness. Or as well as he could see in daylight, which wasn’t too well but his glasses set that.  
So it was then, when he had almost lost hope on finding the witch’s house or any place at all that he would possibly like to stay at, he saw a warm glimmer of orange light dribbling through the tree trunks.  
It sparked his curiosity and made his hope come back to live. With careful steps but a quick pace, he crossed the distance, seeking cover behind trees once in a while, not sure what was expecting him.  
What he found, however, wasn’t by any means threatening. In fact in was probably the most welcoming scenery Richie had experienced in quite some time.  
The small house in front of him looked like it had fallen straight of out of the pages of a storybook. With its wooden shutters and the windowsills littered with flowers, it looked like a fairytale home. Vibrant colors and an indefinable but pleasant smell stirred Richie’s senses and practically drew him closer without much assistance.  
Before he even realised he had set a foot into what equaled to a front yawn for a house placed in the forest, he was already by the door. He hesitated for a brief second but determination won over uncertainty and he knocked.  
Grave silence.  
He knocked again and listened into the quiet.  
He nervously shifted his weight from one feet to the other, as he heard faint noises inside the small cabin. Noises, but no footsteps.  
“Hello?”  
The sound of his own voice startled him.  
“I’m, uh- I’m sorry to bother you this late but I, er- I need- I mean- Can I come in?”  
There was another beat of silence and Richie felt his heart sink. Within a split second, a thousand different thoughts raced through his head. He felt like the floor was breaking away beneath his feet, like the last straw he had been holding on to was torn away from him-  
And then the door opened.

Richie’s heart dropped. The annoyed expression on the other man’s face was the only thing that wasn’t stunning. And honestly, it did very little to defy his beauty. The fiery light from inside the shack illuminated him from behind. A spark was dancing in his big brown eyes, awake and aware and deep like oceans yet unknown to mankind.  
His freckled skin seemed to radiate a golden glow. It was like he was vibrating with an energy that was completely new to Richie. Not once in his life had he met someone who came close to this. The young man was somehow so present, in front of him and in Richie’s very mind. It was like he could see another person clearly for the first time in his life.  
Apparently the brief short circuit in Richie’s head didn’t go unnoticed by the young man in front of him who looked like he must be just around Richie’s age.  
“What do you want?”, he asked. He didn’t roll his eyes but Richie saw that he wanted to.  
“Uhh- I- uh?”  
“Cat got your tongue, boy? Speak or buzz off.”  
Clearing his throat, Richie wiped his suddenly sweaty hands on his pants and offered a nervous smile. “No, Sorry. You must be Eddie Kaspbrak. I am Richie Tozier, I come from the vil-”  
“Oh, I don’t want to have anything to do with the villagers.” He was poised to close the door again but Richie quickly brought his feet in between the door and the frame.  
“Me neither!”, he said quickly, a flash of hot panic in his eyes. Eddie was his only chance. He couldn’t lose that.  
His outburst must have raised the man’s interest because he stopped trying to pull the door shut. Richie, withdrawing his foot, swallowed and looked at Eddie in anticipation.  
After a brief moment, the shorter man lowered his head with a sigh. Then he stepped aside. “Come in.”

The interior of the house was even more peculiar than the outside. The colors and smells and lights were dreamlike. Richie felt a bit overwhelmed, there was just so much to take in.  
Fascinated, he looked around the living room, approaching one of the shelves.  
“Don’t touch anything”, Eddie said without even looking at him.  
Richie flinched, straightening his back. “Yessir!”

Eddie lead him to a small round table without taking his eyes off him. A stranger in his home was beyond uncommon and the young witcher wasn’t entirely sure what to think of the odd situation. He didn’t think he regretted letting Richie in- but he wasn’t entirely sure.  
He took seat and Richie followed his example. Eddie made an inviting gesture with his hand.  
“Talk.”  
And Richie talked. The words didn’t come as easily as they had done with Ben. Perhaps because now the pressure was off his chest and going over it again was a lot harder.  
But he managed and this time he got it over without tears.  
Eddie wasn’t as good of a listener as Ben but that was fine. In fact, Richie appreciated the questions in between. It kept the story flowing and gave him something like a red line to hold onto.  
When had finished, he felt physically exhausted. Richie’s story seemed to have taken its toll on Eddie too. Thoughtfully he was fiddling with one of his dark curls, right behind his ear. It lead Richie’s attention to that soft spot of skin which was awfully distracting. He bit his lip and near forcefully ripped his eyes off of Eddie.  
“How curious of this guy to suggest me…”, Eddie murmured under his breath, seeming lost in his own thoughts. Then, and quite abruptly so, he stood up and began to pace up and down the small living room. “I am by no means an expert of magical creatures.”  
The word creatures kinda stung Richie.  
“This stuff cannot be compared to regular magic. It’s an entirely different issue, really. It’s like a pig and a guinea pig, really!”  
He picked up speed while he was talking, wilding gesturing with his hands.  
Like struck by a lightning, he suddenly stopped in his motions and Richie lifted his head, awaiting an epiphany. Instead of enlightening Rich, Eddie simply altered form walking up and down to walking in a small circle, slightly bend forward and tapping his index against his bottom lip.  
“Unless this works like a curse. Curses can be undone. I mean, it would be quite tricky, since there is no information about a specific case like this, just so you know, so it might take a while. Trial and error, you see? But- I mean, I am not saying that it will work, I am not making any promises. I’m just saying it might.”

Richie’s eyes lit up. He practically jumped off his chair and crossed the distance between him and Eddie with only two large steps. In an excited rush, he took Eddie’s hands in his, pulling him closer. “So you’re gonna try it?”  
A hot blush shot to Eddie’s cheeks with the unexpected touch. He lowered his head and cleared his throat as he awkwardly fumbled his hands out of Richie’s grip.  
“Yes, I’m gonna try. You can stay here for the time it takes.”

Richie felt like bursting out into relieved tears right there. His legs were ready to give in beneath him, to have him collapse in front of Eddie and thank him on his hands and knees.  
But Richie still thought Eddie as somewhat cute and he would rather create an image calm certainty around himself.  
“That’s great! Thank you, Eds!”, he exclaimed with excitement, grabbing Eddie’s hands again. His voice cracked a bit. A blush crept to his cheeks even though he wasn’t sure whether the other man had heard him or not.  
The concern shifted from his own voice to Eddie’s face as a frown caused a fine line to form between his eyebrows.  
“Don’t call me that.”  
“Call you what?”, Richie asked, tilting his head to the side.  
Eddie freed his hands once more. “Eds. Don’t call me that. That’s not my name.”  
Richie’s lips curled into a grin as if to even out Eddie’s frown. “Nah, but it’s, like, a nickname. Sounds cute.” He shrugged it off.  
“It doesn’t. It sounds silly and I don’t want you to call me that!”  
Richie lifted his hands up in defence but the grin never left his face. “Alright, alright. I heard you.”  
With a quite huff, Eddie nodded. “Good.”

Half an hour later, Richie had unpacked his few belongings. He was trying his best to tone it down but inside he was practically vibrating with excitement. Everytime he looked around he discovered something new and wonderful in this enchanting house and Eddie, as quirky as he might turn out to be later ( since it was commonly known that people who spent too much time alone got quirky) made him feel welcomed.  
For the first time in weeks, he felt like he was where he was ought to be. Where he was allowed to be, without malignant glances.  
It had already been close to nightfall when Richie had first arrived. Now, outside the windows was nothing but pitch blackness. Not even stars were to be seen, let alone the moon. The all hid behind the thick branchwood like secret spectators.  
As Richie reached into his bag to check if anything else was in there, his fingers brushed the cool, smooth surface of the marbles. He had stuffed them into his bag before investigating the strange light and they had probably slipped down to the bottom.  
With bright eyes, he turned around and held them out to Eddie. “Look!”  
Eddie, heating a pot over the fire to make hot-water bottles for himself and his guest, turned around and lifted an eyebrow. “... Congrats?”  
“No, It’s- I- It’s your offering”, Richie frantically explained, feeling his palms get sweaty again.  
Eddie leaned his head to the side a bit and regarded Richie, then the small net filled with polished marbles, then Richie again. An amused smile snug on his features. “My what?”  
“Oh, nothing!”, Richie quickly said and dropped it back to his other stuff. “That weird ghost said, well, that I’m ought to bring you a gift, for your help, you see. Like, that wasn’t even my idea.”  
“No, wait. Can I see?”  
Richie hesitated, not wanting Eddie to make fun of his lame attempt. Of course he had expected something better, something of actual value. Trying to look like he didn’t care, Richie tossed the net over nonetheless. Eddie struggled to catch it and nearly knocked over the water pot at the attempt.  
“A friend of mine liked marbles, you know. Or at least, I’d assume he does because he always brings me some. Or things alike.”  
“Your friend huh? Sounds like a cat to me”, Richie snickered, taking off his boots to change into more comfortable clothing.  
“A magpie, actually.”  
Richie nearly dropped the wide canvas pants that he had picked to sleep it. “You’re friends with a bird?!”  
Eddie giggled at Richie’s surprise, covering his mouth with one hand. Then his features relaxed back into a quite nonchalante expression. He shrugged as he crossed the room to drop the marbles into a lovely sculpted casket.  
“Yes. Well, most of the time he is.”  
Now Richie just looked at him as if he had gotten crazy. Eddie couldn’t help but giggle. Then he shook his head and waved it off. “He is a shapeshifter, you see. I might have spent some time by myself but I haven’t gotten nuts. I don’t befriend birds.”  
“Birds are cute”, Richie said before fully realising what Eddie had said. “Wait, a Shapeshifter? I thought they were, like, long gone. Not exactly the greatest reputation, ay?”  
“Oh, tell me about bad reputation”, Eddie huffed “But yeah, most of them are no longer with us. It’s kind of a sensitive topic, you see?”  
Richie nodded, taking a big feather out of a shelf, examining it. “I get that. Don’t you tell me about bad reputation though. Witches are always well liked, I mean fine- everyone-”  
“Everyone always wants something from you, wants to have your power for themselves, you never know who is being honest with you or just taking advantage. People try to set themself good with you, sure, but it’s hardly for just liking you so well- but because they either want something or they are scared you might hex them if they piss you off, and-, and-, before you really get to know all the stuff, before you’re good at what you’re doing, and like-, still learning, literally no one trusts you, not even those who like you for real, because- because you could potentially be a hazard to yourself and society. And those who don’t care for you are pissed because you’re no good use then. Like sure, once you get it right, you can surround yourself with a bunch of fake friends who’ll make a fool of themselves to please you so maybe-, just maybe, you make them rich and pretty, but maybe these years of learning, where everyone is just not so happy of your magic, are enough to make you question if you even want that, if you even care to stick around with these people because, what have they ever done for you that wasn’t shit? Also, It’s witcher not witch. I am a boy, dammit!”

Richie blinked at Eddie. The shorter man’s hands were shaking and a wild fire was raging behind his eyes. Richie had by no means intended to upset Eddie and the outburst had caught him off guard. He was pretty dumbfound.  
It took a moment of just staring at each other before Richie found his voice again. He cleared his throat and put the feather back.  
“ ‘S been sleeping inside you, huh?”  
“Shut up.”  
“Hey, no, I- I get it. Trust me, I know about weird looks. Fine, I never had the Witcher-experience trademark but- look, it just sucks being different. I get it.”

The look Eddie shot him, robbed Richie of his breath. Not because of the dangerously roaring fire or the golden shine he had seen before, but because suddenly they looked so old and so weary. The smile, however, made his heart beat harder.  
Then, as if this conversation had never happened, Eddie turned away again and took a pillow and a spare blanket out of one of the closets.  
“I don’t have a guest room, as you can obviously see, but the armchair is rather comfortable. It’ll make an alright sleeping spot until we get a hand on a bed for you”.  
“Oh, no worries. I don’t mind sharing a bed with you.” Richie was about to crawl into the comfortable looking bed at the far end of the room. The fluffy, warm bedding was like a siren call of his tired body. He couldn’t wait to finally close his eyes.  
Eddie damn near tackled him away from his bed. Well, technically he only grabbed the rim of Richie’s shirt and pulled him back but to Richie it certainly felt more violent than that.  
He spun around and stared at his new roommate. “What the fuck?”  
“Maybe I mind sharing a bed with you. I don’t even know you, after all!”  
“You see how tiny that thing is?”, Richie asked, gesturing towards the armchair, “There is no way I could sleep in that!”  
“It will have to do, because there is no way I am letting you sleep in my bed!”  
“You’re not making me sleep in a fucking dog basket by the foot of your fucking bed! I am not an animal!” Richie felt himself tear up. He felt the blush rush through his veins. He felt his muscles vibrate with tension. Oh no. Oh no no. This wasn’t good in the least, He couldn’t lose his temper like that, especially not at his time of night.  
He didn’t know what he had expected Eddie to do, but stepping forward and gently pressing two fingers against his forehead was definitely not it.  
“Shh, calm down. Nobody said that, okay? Just- calm down…”  
And much to Richie’s own surprise, he did. He felt his pulse slowing back to a normal speed and he felt his muscles unclench.  
“Better?”, Eddie asked, the expression in his eyes cautious but kind enough.  
Richie swallowed and hesitantly nodded? “A- A spell?”  
“Not exactly. That shapeshifter friend, he has… Issues with overthinking sometimes. It’s always good to know how to pour oil on troubled water.” A half apologetic shrug, as if to say sorry for messing with your head but better than being mauled by a demonic wolf creature, right?  
No, that’s not what is trying to say, Richie forced himself to remember. He swallowed again. “I see. Handy.”  
“Indeed. But Richie- I mean it. I am not sharing a bed with someone I just met.”  
“No, uh- No, of course not”, Richie muttered. He offered Eddie a brief, apologetic smile before scuffling over to the armchair. So much for the good impression, great job, Tozier.

Eddie had to admit, he felt sympathy for the oh so pitiful looking young man. It wouldn’t change his mind on the sleeping issue, of course, but he still hoped that he could cure him of that burden he was carrying rather sooner than later.  
When the pot began to whistle, Eddie took it off the flame. Moments later, he approached Richie with on of the hot-water bottles. The taller man, who really didn’t fit into the armchair as comfortable as Eddie had hoped for, had curled up, his forehead rested against his knees, his eyes were closed.  
Not sure if he was already beginning to drift off into sleep, Eddie just wordlessly slid the hot-water bottle under the blanket for him and was about to retreat again.  
“Do you think, you can do it? I mean, do you really think that?”  
The sudden sound of Richie’s voice surprisingly didn’t startled Eddie. He was getting used to sharing his home much quicker than he would have thought.  
Turning back to Richie, he was ready to explain that there was no way to tell this yet and there were quite some options that he could try but, again, he had no experience with this special case so he simply didn’t know it yet.  
But then his eyes met Richie’s. And in less than the blink of an eye, it came very clear to him that, no matter what, he would find a way. No matter the cost, no matter the time. He had always believed that he had been given his abilities to help people when help was much needed and something in the way Richie looked at him, so hopeful and yet so lost, made him feel like perhaps this was just the fate he was always meant to meet.

His smile was warm and sincere as he nodded his head.  
“Yes. We will figure it out. I promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eddie wants to jump into action as soon as it's possible. Richie and him calculate the risk very differently however.  
> Emotional support, when needed, sometimes comes from unexpected places.

Richie had never been the restful kind of person and the unfamiliar situation did very little to improve his ability to remain still. It was only natural for him to open his eyes with the first streaks of light. He was instantly aware that it would be impossible for him to go back to sleep even though he couldn’t claim to be well rested. His legs arched and his back felt stiff.

Making as little sound as possible, he pushed the blanket aside and got up to stretch properly. His glance traveled over to Eddie’s bed and he found the witcher sleeping safe and sound. A smile crept to Richie’s face. Their first encounter yesterday might not have been the best and it was awfully clear to him that it had been mostly his fault but he was eager to turn this around.

He ran his fingers through his messy curls as he looked around the room. The thought of breakfast came from his stomach more than his head. He was sure that preparing a nice meal for Eddie would earn him good-roommate-credit. It would also be likely to stop the rumbling in his guts.

Spotting which section of the room was the ‘kitchen’ was the easy part. There was a closet near the fireplace, something like a kitchendressed, pots and knives.

Finding ingredients that Richie recognised and knew to be harmless, that prove to be a lot harder. Everything displaced on the shelves looked a lot more like ‘magic’-stuff than food-stuff. He also wasn’t to comfortable going through the sideboards and closets for something edible. If Eddie were to wake up in the meantime and find him searching his stuff, that would do pretty bad damage on their yet so new friendship, Richie was sure of that.

He sighed and pressed a silencing hand on his roaring stomach. 

Richie’s attention was drawn from his own pathetically whining guts to the window by the quiet creak of the shutters swinging open.

As if it was the most natural thing for it to do, a black cat with huge yellowish brown eyes came strolling in. It seemed just as surprised to see Richie as Richie was seeing a cat coming in as if the house belonged to them. Or was this Eddie’s cat? Was a black cat for a witcher too clicheé or did it hold some truth to it? 

One way or another, Richie had always liked animals and been well-liked by them. So the sight of the unexpected visitor drew a smile on his face.

Carefully he approached the feline, soothingly lifting his hands. “Hey, beauty. Who are you, huh?”, he said, speaking softly as to not wake Eddie or startle the cat.

The furry intruder considered Richie and apparently decided that he wasn’t worth a fuss. With one flowing motion, it jumped off the window sill and closed the distance between it and Richie. It nestle against his leg, gently rubbed its head against the canvas fabric of his pants, then passed by.

Richie smiled and put a hand on his chest, touched. “Aww, I love you too!”

He spun to see where the cat was going. What he then witnessed was so un-catlike that he had trouble believing he had really seen it. It gently bumped its narrow hip against the bottom edge of the cabinets, causing the door to swing open. Inside, there were eggs, and bread, and Ham. 

“Oh”, Richie said, entirely unsure what to make of this. “Thanks.”

The cat continued to prove itself as a very helpful kitchen assistant. A tat rude maybe - Richie thought that picking the wrong pot didn’t justify biting his fingers - but he was grateful for the help nonetheless.

Eddie seemed to be much deeper asleep than Richie would have guessed but then again, being small and angry was probably exhausting. All that was of interest to Richie was that he slept over any noise he produced while making breakfast. His stomach loudly hurrying him along didn’t exactly improve his dexterity.

He even found, with only minor assistance from the feline helper, some juice and jam, which Eddie stored in a cooled box outside the house. 

The witcher only awoke, when the cat smoothly jumped onto the bed, lay down on top of his chest and began to meow at him. He opened one eye and brushed some curls out of his forehead. “Mornin’ “, he muttered before gently pushing the cat off of him to turn around.

“Good morning”, came the reply from Richie that the cat couldn’t give. Eddie, who had almost entirely repressed the presents of someone else in his house over night, instantly sat in bed upright. He stared at Richie in terror before exhaling deeply and putting a hand over his heart. “ _Jesus_ , don’t scare me like that!”

“Uh, sorry?”, Richie replied with a sheepish grin and half a shrug. “Thought you’d have object permanence of some kind. My bad.”

“Screw you”, Eddie yawned and Richie felt almost sick with how cute he looked in his wide sleeping gown, with his hair in messy curls.

“Gladly, but can we have breakfast first?”

Richie saw that there was another snappy comment right on the tip of Eddie’s tongue but before it got to pass his lips, his stomach interrupted him with a rumble, not as loud as the noises Richie’s middle had produced earlier but still audible.

The black cat meowed again.

“Alright, alright. Breakfast.”

**  
  
**

Shortly after they were sitting at the round table again, just like yesterday when Richie had confessed to Eddie. Just that now there was this cat, with it’s strangely aware eyes, sitting on top of the table and feasted on some ham. Richie’s eyes were fixed on it for a while. Somehow he was really fascinated with the animal. There had been cats in his neighbourhood, some more wild, some more sweet. This cat seemed very different to him. Not visually, but in the way Eddie felt different than other human. 

“Did you sleep well?”, Richie asked, finally ripping his eyes off the cat. Smalltalk wasn’t exactly his expertise but it was better than no conversation at all.

“I guess. So, you don’t always transform at night?”

Oh worm, Eddie was even worse at smalltalk than he was.

Of course Richie had known that questions like that would come. Eddie had to be in the picture in order to do something, it wasn’t hard to wrap your mind around that. It was just that Richie really prefered to store his problems in a locked box somewhere far away from him. He had no doubt that it was right to get help with this particular, worst-of-all problem, he had simply hoped for a longer reprieve.

He took a deep breath and pushed his plate over to the cat. Something gave him the idea that he wouldn’t be in the mood for scrambled eggs after this talk. The cat didn’t seem to mind.

“No, not every night. I am not sure what it depends on. At first I thought it would only happen during full moon, you know, like in the stories. I thought, if I just lock myself up then, I’ll be fine the rest of the time. Was quite wrong there. Like, I think it might have to do something with moon phases still but it also has to do with- I don’t even know- but there must be something else.”

“You shouldn’t care too much about these stories. A lot of it is made up, you know.”

“Like how werewolves and ghosts and witches are a thing?”, Richie snorted.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say, it was  _ all _ made up, did I? I said  _ a lot of it _ , that is a major difference. Back in the old times people were much more in touch with magic. But they got scared after a while.”

“I sure have no idea why…”, Richie muttered sarcastically, staring into his mug so he didn’t have to look at Eddie. 

“Shush. It’s not like magical creatures are dangerous. They are  _ different _ is all. People didn’t like that too much, living next-door with someone who might just be able to do something they can’t.

Look, I can’t relate to your situation exactly, I have never been a werewolf obviously and I have never met one before either, but I know how it went with witches- and witchers. Witches and Normies used to get along perfectly fine. Of course our skills have always been helpful to the communities we lived in but more like those of a doctor or an engineer. People just didn’t, like- they didn’t  _ rely _ on us that much, you know. But eventually they figured out, that magic powers is something you can exploit, so they did. So the witches back then kinda just took a powder and the new generation, me included, sorta ditched the village-life too, you get me?”

“Not to be rude- fun lesson in witch history, but- how is this supposed to help me?”, Richie asked, tilting his head a bit.

“It doesn’t”, Eddie replied with a shrug, “I just wanted to let you know that you can’t always rely on stories to be true. People prefer to paint a nasty picture of whatever they don’t like- no matter if that dislike is reasonable or not. They like, for example, to imagine werewolves only come out when the moon is full, so they can believe there is a scheme that keeps them safe the rest of the time.”

“But it’s not and I am a constant threat to everyone near me.”

“That’s not what I said.”   
“You implied it”, Richie said, his voice bitter with hurt.

For a moment, there was uncomfortable silence. It felt unnatural and suffocating to Richie who usually always knew what to say to brighten the mood.

It was Eddie who broke the silence in the end.

“Look, I am sorry, I really didn’t mean that. You are- I mean- It’s not like you’re evil.”

Richie shrugged, still looking into the dark red tea filling his mug as if that was where he would find the solution to his misery. “Not evil, but dangerous nonetheless.”

“Jesus Christ!”, Eddie sighed, putting his hands flat on the table. Richie flinched and looked up with wide eyes. The cat stayed surprisingly calm.

“This self-pity won’t get you anywhere, alright. Why do you want to believe yourself a monster, when I am telling you, your not? Tone down that attitude, Richie, or we won’t get anywhere with this!”

“I- uh-”

“I am not done!”, Eddie cut Richie off. “If you continue to blame yourself personally for something you can’t control, all you’ll get from it is insanity! You didn’t ask to be bitten, right? So, you should, like, treat this as- treat it like a medical condition. Sure, it sucks, I get it, but that doesn’t mean you have to crawl under a stone and act like your life is over already. We’ll cure this. So quit it already, will you?”

Richie paused for a second.

“Are you done?”

Eddie nodded, even though the heat in his glance still made his eyes glow in vibrant colors.

Richie nodded back, then sighed. “I’ll try, okay? The people at my village, they- well, they were very convincing on the matter of my worth, you know. It’s not like I am keeping an act up for you to pity me.”

“I don’t think that”, Eddie replied, his voice a bit softer alright but still stern, “but fear- especially fear of yourself- is counterproductive in the best case. And in the worst, it will tear you apart. I need you to understand that you are not your own enemy. As I said, try and treat it like a disease you’re trying to get rid of. It’s painful and it’s holding you back but it doesn’t, like, make you less valuable as a person.”

Richie could feel his eyes tear up. He had toughened himself up against the hateful words people met him with, or at least he like to think he had. It had hurt but it wasn’t new. 

The way Eddie treated him, found kind words to get him out of the dark, that was something Richie wasn’t used to anymore. A voice in the back of his head told him, that Eddie was only capable of kindness because he hadn’t seen his beast yet, but Richie refused to listen to that voice. For now at least. 

He pulled his sleeve over the heel of his hand and hectically whipped his eyes and nose with it so Eddie wouldn’t see him getting emotional. Crying wasn’t too sexy.

“Oh jeez, are you okay?”, Eddie leaned lower to look into Richie’s face, even though he was doing his best to hide it. So much for that.

“Oh yes, totally!”, Richie insisted, sounding just a tat too enthusiastic there, “It’s just, I uh- I am allergic to uh- cats.”

The black cat looked up and shot Richie a glance. It didn’t need the structure of a human face to make clear that it was fairly disappointed with having to serve as a very poor excuse.

Suddenly, where the cat sat only seconds ago, now there was an octopus sitting on the table, about three times the size of the cat. Mugs and plates fell of the table, accompanied by loud rattling. Richie screamed and instinctively pushed himself away from the creature. 

“Stan! My crockery!”, Eddie exclaimed, throwing his arms up. “I told you a  _ million  _ time not to mess around inside the house!”

Still muttering to himself about how this was exactly why he hardly ever invited someone in, Eddie began to gather the dishware as if there wasn’t a gigantic cephalopod sitting right there on his table.

“Wuh-What-Where- Where did the- where did the cat go?”, Richie brabbled, nervously looking back and forth between Eddie and the octopus - that didn’t bother Eddie enough for Richie’s taste.

“I told you, I am friends with a shapeshifter”, Eddie said, and quite nonchalantly so. As if on command, the octopus vanished and made room for an otter, a lizard, a fennec and finally a small, soft-looking and most importantly very unthreatening owl. 

Eddie shrugged. “He likes to mess with new people.”

“Charming”, Richie muttered, his voice still wavy.

“Yeah, he’s kind of a jerk”, Eddie agreed.

The owl flapped its wings, scandalized. 

**  
  
  
**

Richie was moving cautiously as he help Eddie cleaning the table and the dishes, always keeping an eye on the shapeshifter. Stan- that’s what Eddie had called him.

It was not like Richie shared the prejudices about shapeshifters, he just didn’t want to be surprised by another huge and potentially dangerous animal popping up around him.

“Don’t stare at him, it’s considered rude”, Eddie said as he put the last plates away but he didn’t sound all to invested.

“He is staring at me too!” Richie could see the challenging glare in the birds face as clear as day. 

“He’s not. Don’t be dramatic and come here.”

Richie’s attention instantly was entirely with Eddie as he saw him pull a book out of one shelf. It was nearly as broad as Eddie’s whole back and only a little thinner than his own thigh. The cover was made out of wood and gold and looked like it was at least centuries old. Not this was what Richie had expected to find back in the library with Ben. The thing radiated such a strong sense of power, it was like electricity in the air.

“Jeez…”, Richie said under his breath. 

“Yeah”, Eddie confirmed as he heaved the book onto a way too fragile looking lectern with obvious struggle. “It’s a collection of all the magic that manipulates nature, so animals, plants, weather - it’s like a supernatural biology guide, really.”   
“Wow, all of it?”, Richie asked, solemnly stepping closer to look over Eddie’s shoulder.

“Well, most of it. It claims to be complete but- ”, Eddie paused, “you need to understand- this thing is old. And not in the way those books in library showcases are old but, like,  _ old _ . The things inside are still correct, that is not the problem. It’s just that witches and witchers all over the world are more invested with inventing new magic than with keeping track of what they already have. It is rather extensive though, I bet it says something that will be of use for us!”, he then quickly added as if not to rob Richie of his hope again. 

Richie was feeling quite the opposite of hopelessness.

This book was  _ huge _ . And it wasn’t even a complete collection. He had no idea how many more spells or charms or potions or artifacts with magical powers there were and the way Eddie put it, the amount was increasing with every passing day. There was no way, that there wasn’t anything that could make him right.

For having to deal with the sorcerous disturbance running through his veins, Richie was still severely unused to the idea of magic and all that it could do. The touch of magic in his own life had failed to show it’s lovely sides so far, but he was beginning to grasp that there was more - just so much more to it.

Stan flew over with two wing beats and settled on the edge of the lectern before changing into the more convenient shape of a gecko.

“In on the party, Señor?”, Richie asked with a snicker. The small lizard waved his tail in reply.

“Yeah, I’m curious too.”

Stan’s and Richie’s eyes were glued to Eddie’s hands as he began to flip through the pages. Richie wasn’t sure how the witcher could even make out the headlines with the speed he was going through it but then again, Eddie probably knew the book like the back of his hand.

He went back and forth through the yellowed pages like a dealer shuffling cards. Richie didn’t even have the time to read the first word before the letters blurred in front of his eyes again. Stan didn’t seem to be more successful at following Eddie’s frantic search. The both shared a clueless glance and Richie couldn’t help but feel a little weird for having a non-verbal conversation with a reptile.

They attention was back with Eddie the very second his fingers came to a rest and he slammed his flat hand on the dusty paper. “This!”

Richie paused. He scanned the page. Even though he couldn’t make all too much sense out of the cryptic instructions, the brief explanation was understandable. 

He lifted an eyebrow.

“Demon possession? Are you gonna try to exorcise me?”

“Don’t be silly. I am not a priest. The concept applies to your situation, I guess. Some superhuman force taking control of your body, and all”, Eddie shrugged. “It’s one of the shots we got. But I-”

The way he paused to look at Richie couldn’t mean anything good.

“What?”

Eddie sighed and closed his eyes for a beat. He folded his hands in front of his face, then turned them so his fingertips pointed towards Richie. “Look, I know you’re not gonna like it-”   
“Oh no, here we go.”

“-but I think it would be useful to witness your transformation and the way you act at least once before I start casting random spells. I could do more harm than good if I don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

Richie felt like his head was suddenly filled with shattered glass. His whole body froze, except for his hands, clenching to fists. The voices in his mind were louder than ever, yelling at him that there was no way Eddie would keep him around a second longer if he ever saw that Richie could become.

“You’re kidding.”   
“I understand that you don’t like the idea, but-”

“No, Eddie, you don’t understand. You don’t understand at all!”, Richie cried, his voice shaking with what wanted to be a sob but wouldn’t quite come out. “It is not like I don’t want you to see that side of me because I am  _ embarrassed _ . It’s not like  _ ‘oh my, I’d rather not have you watch me sleepwalk because sometimes I get stuck in a corner like a dumbass and I could never look you in the eyes again if you saw that’ _ -no! You could get seriously hurt!”

“I know how to take care of myself”, Eddie insisted. 

“You don’t. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into!”, Richie argued, near panic now.

“You really don’t need to worry about me.”   
“If something happens to you, there is no one else who can help me!”

The following silence was cold and Richie could taste its bitterness in the back of his throat. Once again, he had to forcefully hold back the tears and he half-consciously wondered if he had always been such a crybaby.

Eddie, however, seemed rather calm. Too calm perhaps.

Maybe he would ask him to leave now and it was all over. Richie had practically just admitted that he worried more about his own well-being than Eddie’s very life after all. If someone were to ask him, of course Richie would insist that it was in no way what he meant, but wasn’t it? He felt like he was losing himself more and more.

The touch of Eddie’s hand on his arm ripped him out of the drowning, black water that were his own thoughts.

“I get that you are scared”, his voice was soothingly gentle and his touch felt like a cold hand when your head was almost bursting with fever. “But I won’t let anything get out of control. All you ever experienced was chaos because no human, not even those who mean well for you, know -  _ really know _ \- how to handle you then. I do. I won’t let it escalate.”

Richie wasn’t convinced. 

“Besides, if you stay here for longer, it’s likely to happen eventually anyway”, Eddie went on and Richie absolutely did not like where this was going. “So, for my own safety, I would rather not cast spells before I can rule out whether it’ll have a bad influence.”

Richie swallowed. Now with that he simply couldn’t argue without just downright saying that he didn’t care about Eddie’s safety. Which wasn’t true. So he simply lowered his head with a sigh.

“Alright…”

Eddie went back to searching his archives for ways to help Richie. For a little while longer, Richie looked over his shoulder, trying to piece together what all the strange signs and unfamiliar words meant.

Eventually he figured that it was of no real use. On top of that it felt weirdly constricting to stand this close to Eddie now. What happened earlier could hardly be called a fight, and yet Richie found himself continuously going back to it in his head.

“You mind if I go out for a bit? I could use some fresh air.”

There was concern in his eyes as Eddie looked back over his shoulder but he nodded nonetheless.

“Sure. Are you gonna find your way back?”

“ ‘f course”, Richie nodded with a smug grin. “Mah singin’ heart will lead mah weh back to ya, dawlin’ “

Eddie paused. “What?”   
“Nevermind”, Richie brushed it off, ruffed Eddie’s hair before turning to the door. “See ya, Eds.” 

“Don’t call-”, but the door already fell shut again.

**  
  
  
**

Usually Richie wasn’t the type of person who took walks to gather his thoughts but a lot has changed and things hardly went as usual.

He had learned to be good company for himself when nobody else wanted to fulfill that role. Talking to himself wasn’t a challenge. He had always been criticized for being unable to shut it.

Absentmindedly he kicked a stone along, too big to be a pebble, too round to be a rock. After today, Richie wouldn’t be surprised if the stone turned out to be somewhat magical as well.

All of this was still so strange to him, and yet he couldn’t help but feel like he belonged here. The feeling he got when he looked at Stan or the book or Eddie-

Oh god, Eddie.

“He’s just so cute, what the hell”, he muttered quietly, pushing his hands into the pockets of his coat as he kicked the stone another few inches further. “Like, who gave him permission?”

The sounds and shadows of the forest didn’t seem as hostile as they did when Richie arrived at Eddie’s house. It might be because it had been night back then and it was noon now. It might be because Richie had already accepted this place as his new home.

He didn’t notice the light footsteps on the dry leaves as he continues to brabble to himself.

“I mean, as sweet as it is, he doesn’t know what he has in coming. He said it himself he has never known a w- someone like me before. Wow, ain’t that pathetic? I can’t even say it, even when I am by myself. Point being, he  _ can’t  _ know what is coming up at him if he has never lived through it. You don’t learn stuff like that from books…!”

“Oh, don’t let the looks fool you, my friend. Eddie is tougher than you would think.”

Richie spun around with a ridiculously high-pitched yelp.

The man leaning against one of the trees closed to Richie must have been around Richie’s age but it was hard to tell. Aging worked different for people who had magic in their blood.

The stranger’s features were calm and kind, nonthreatening. His dark blond curls shone almost like antique gold in the almost dream-like light drizzling through the treetops.

Richie had never seen this face before, he was sure he would recognize this kind of classic beauty. He didn’t give Richie the kind of tingling feelings in his guts when he looked at him, like Eddie did, but it was not to be denied that his opponent was stunningly pretty.

Even though Richie didn’t know the other man’s face there were other instincts letting him know who was standing in front of him. He didn’t want to think about whether he could only tell due to the inhuman infection in his blood, he didn’t want to think about whether it was the smell of the person that was giving away who he was. 

“You must be Stan then?”

“Correct”, the young man confirmed and pushed himself off the tree to make a step towards Richie. “You’re Eddie’s new roommate.”   
“Richie”, he nodded, holding out his hand. “Nice to meet you. Eye to eye, I mean.”

“Pleasure is all mine”, Stan said. He seemed a bit confused by the gesture at first, like he had to dig deep into his memories of a former life before he could remember what it meant. When he finally shook Richie’s hand his grip was firm and warm.

“Not to be rude, but- may I ask why you’ve been following me around?”

The expression in Stan’s eyes turned apologetic. “I felt like you were not in a very good state to be left alone. I didn’t mean to bother you or make you uncomfortable but I felt like you might need some company.”

“I don’t want company”, Richie muttered, staring down onto his mud stained boots.

“I know. People who want company don’t run off into the woods for the most parts”, Stan replied with a frown, looking like Richie’s demur made absolutely no sense at all. “That doesn’t mean you can’t  _ need _ it.”

Richie looked up and scowled at Stan. “I should know what I need, shouldn’t I?”

The way he was fiddling with the rim of his shirt didn’t quite support his false confidence.

Stan’s face grew sympathetic again and he shook his head. “We hardly ever know what we really need. It’s easier to see in someone else than for yourself.”

“Deep”, Richie snorted. He didn’t exactly have a problem with Stan. Quite the opposite. The feeling the shapeshifter gave him reminded him of his schooldays, when you met a new kid, exchanged a few words and you immediately knew that you wanted to befriend that person. 

What bugged him was the lack of privacy. He wanted to think this through for himself. Was that too much to ask for?

“I don’t want to talk…”, Richie said, his voice a bit softer now but still blocking Stan off. 

“We don’t have to talk. I just don’t think you should be alone.”

“What is it to you?”, Richie sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. 

Stan began walking again and Richie followed. It was a natural movement. Standing still in the middle of the forest while staring at each other was far more awkward.   
“I don’t want to, by any means, devalidate how you’re feeling,” Stan started, “but you are not the only person who ever felt that way. Eddie, me, many of our friends- we have been there. And I know it can be scary to accept people getting close again. You have been hurt, I know. And I am basically a complete stranger. Also-” He hesitated. 

Richie dug his hands deep into the pockets of his coat. “Also?”

Stan sighed. He was trying to put it the right way in his head before actually speaking up. Hurting Richie’s feelings wouldn’t only be counterproductive but also unnecessarily cruel.

“Okay, let’s see if this sounds familiar to you. Loneliness is something you’ve grown used to. It is well-known, even if not pleasant. You know what to expect from it and that makes you feel safe. Having someone around who cares, even if there is no need to think they will wrong you, even if you know they are being sincere - it is scary. It isn’t a situation you can predict and that make you feel vulnerable. So you’d rather pick loneliness over company sometimes.”

Richie was speechless and that was an insanely rare occasion. For a moment he just started at Stan before everything bubbled over at once.

“So what you’re saying is that I  _ do  _ bath myself in self-pity That I  _ want _ people to treat my like I am worthless? To beat me up over something I can’t do anything about?!”

“I wasn’t saying that!”, Stan replied, quickly lifting his hands as if that would magically sooth Richie’s temper. It didn’t.

“And what  _ were _ you saying? You think I like to see myself as a victim and I don’t really want help? Do you think that is the reason why I don’t want Eddie to see me transform? Because it’s getting too real and I would rather stay like this so I have an excuse to be a sad loner?”

“What I was saying is, that it’s hard to let loose when you’re so used to relying on yourself!” Stan’s voice was louder now so he was getting a hearing even with Richie’s emotions flowing over.

It threw Richie off enough for Stan to have the floor.

“I never were in a situation where I lost control and did things I couldn’t stop myself from doing and I  _ still _ got scared like shit when I first met Eddie! It is weird to have someone be sincerely kind with you again and honestly, I tried to block him off. Because I felt like I deserve to be alone. Because it felt more  _ right _ to be alone! But he stuck around and wouldn’t let the voices in my head, telling me I am not worth his kindness, get the best of me.

Eddie got me out of a really dark place and I think he can do the same for you, if you let him.”

Richie swallowed and looked away because there was an intensity in Stan’s eyes that he couldn’t take. 

“But you guys are friends…”

Stan snorted. “Oh right, sorry, I forgot that was a condition we were born with, we just popped up in this world, being friends. We didn’t even know each other more than half of our lives but we have been friends anyway.”

“Okay, no need to be sarcastic”, Richie muttered, crossing his arms tightly in front of his body.

Was stan right? Was he locking people out deliberately, even if it wasn’t a fully conscious decision? Wouldn’t he know? Perhaps not…

“There is always a need to be sarcastic”, Stan commented but he couldn’t keep a straight face at that and the half grin he was shooting Richie made the world seem like a more alright place somehow. 

“Touché… Is uh- Is Eddie still on it?”, Richie changed the topic because talking about himself so much was unsettling.

“Who knows”, Stan said, looking back over his shoulder to where he had come from, as if he could see right through all the branchwood directly into Eddie’s window. “He might be. When I left, he was frantically writing page numbers on a seperate piece of parchment. Wanna go and check?”

Richie hesitated but then, slowly, he gave a nod. 

As they went back to the cabin, Stan eventually started telling Richie all kinds of things that he had Eddie had done together. Changing the whether in a certain part of the woods, so the birds could find a little more food before winter. Trying out potions that temporarily changed your voice or height or hair color, which was funnier to Eddie than to Stan. Summoning a jackalope, which is a rabbit with antlers, so Richie learned.

In return, Richie told him about his marble matches with his old friends or about the times when they were kids and jumped around, pretending to be the heros from their favourite stories.

In the beginning, it was to avoid dead air but soon enough they were chatting as if they had know each other for half of their lives.

When they walked back into the house, laughing about something that Stan had said - because each time Richie said something funny, he was the only one laughing - Eddie was just closing the book. The stack of loose papers next to him had significantly increased.

He looked up and his eyes locked with Richie’s. A shiver ran down the boys spine as a confident, and oh so sweet, smirk appeared on the witcher’s face.

“I found what we need. We’re prepared.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's gonna still take a while because we will stick around with Rich, Eds and Stanny for a while longer but I would be thrilled if you were to let me know which if the losers yet unknown you want to be introduced next.  
> And even if you have no opinion on that, don't hestitate to leave a comment (please, I need Feedback).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For once in Richie's life, fate seems to be on his side. Things look a bit brighter. For now at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is mostly fluff. Take it as the calm before the storm, for the next chapter will be a bit more… intense.  
> Also, new Character - Yay!

Whatever they were prepared for - it wouldn’t come.

Not right away at least. 

The second night Richie stayed at Eddie’s place, this time accompanied by Stan also, he again wouldn’t transform. An unrealistically hopeful voice somewhere in a far corner of his mind, a voice he should have gotten rid of ages ago out of self-protective reasons, began to cheer that, somehow, that part of him had just vanished for good. That the company of Eddie and Stan, of people who accepted him, was all it had taken to rid him of his blood curse.

It was too good to be actually considered but Richie still caught himself desperately wanting to believe it. If he only needed to be near Eddie in order to never transform again, then by god, he would do that. There were worse fates to be followed.

Richie’s newfound friends seemed to embrace the prolonged calmness of the situation as well. There was no conversation about the topic, for it was such an unpleasant topic to talk about, but the feeling lingered in the air.

It was oddly familiar, living with Eddie and Stan. Oddly soothing.   
Richie felt like the protagonist in one of those novels his mom used to read a lot, where someone moved out to the countryside to leave their stressful life behind and become a farmer or something instead and incidentally also meet their soulmate there. Just that these protagonists usually were middle aged women. 

The next morning was spend outside. Some of the spells that Eddie had gathered yesterday included potions or pastes which fortunately mostly consisted of ingredients that could be found in Eddie’s garden.

So far, Richie hadn’t really take the time to marvel at the beautiful flora surrounding Eddie’s home. Of course the colors and smells had added to the enchanting first impression but a detailed look stayed out until now.

So naturally it happened that, while Eddie and Stan were perfectly used to all of this, Richie felt like a kid in a toy store, experiencing all of this for the first time.

And like with an excited child too, eager to learn something new, it was advisable to keep Richie busy before he might touch something he wasn’t ought to touch.

Bright eyed, Richie followed Eddie around the garden, the basket the witcher had handed him in a close grip.   
“And this one?”, he asked, nodding towards another plant.    
Eddie didn’t even look up from the flower he was carefully taking petals off. It hung upside down, round and small and looked nothing like the flowers Richie knew for the overgrown park lawns he had played at in past summers.

“ _ Lamprocapnos spectabilis _ \- commonly known as  _ Bleeding Hearts. _ They are associated with the beauty that lies within pain. We only use the red petals, you see? We are taking the ‘tear’ out.”   
“Oh, I get it”, Richie nodded. He wasn’t sure he really got it but it was hair enough. “Hey, Eds?”

“Yeah?”

“Looks like you have lots of experience at  _ deflowering _ ”, Richie said with a wide grin, waving the basket full of loose petals and flower peaks back and forth.

Eddie blinked. Finally he looked up from his work to stare at Richie again. His cheeks turned red.”Shut up!”

“Aww, but you got skilled and soft hands. If I was a flower, I would want you to touch my petiole all day”, he winked, looping an arm around Eddie’s neck.

He got an elbow to he rips in return.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re, like, really unfunny? Because I think you should know.”

“Oh, people tell me  _ all  _ the time”, Richie confirmed with a grin, pulling Eddie closer despite of the boy’s struggle. “But you know, a true visionary doesn’t get discouraged by the narrow-mindedness of the commonality.”

At the very corner of his field of vision, Richie saw Stan roll his eyes hard enough for only the white of his eyeball to be visible. Richie snickered to himself. 

Stan, who had stayed to enjoy the morning sun shining onto Eddie’s gardner rather than to help them, eventually excused himself before turning into a bird, a fluffy-looking blue one, and leaving them behind.

“He is so cryptic lately. Always off to somewhere…”, Eddie murmured, talking more to himself than to Richie.

“Hm?”, Richie made but Eddie just shook his head and refrained from spilling any further detail of what he meant. Instead, he went back to his garden work.

With Richie’s help, it didn’t take all to long to wrap up everything that needed to be done.   
A proud grin spread over the taller boy’s face as he put the basket down on the table. “All done- That was nice actually!”, he exclaimed, taking another close look at the plants that still looked so new and special to him.

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself but we are far from done”, Eddie replied with a sweet, ringing laugh that filled Richie’s head with too many butterflies to let him realise there was more work awaiting him.

“Well, I don’t mind lending a hand to help you  _ finish _ ”, he winked.

“Well, I hope so, I am doing this mostly for you after all”, Eddie replied with a laugh, completely oblivious to the dirty meaning poorly hidden in Richie’s words. 

Richie was about to explain his joke (which would have been a terrible choice altogether) but stopped himself because the witcher’s laughter was simply too pure to be spoiled.

He just shook his head and followed Eddie to the kitchen sektion of his one-room-house. “Okay, what’s next then, Mister Kaspbrak?”

A weird but not particularly unpleasant feeling of unsorted nostalgia filled Eddie’s chest. He smiled. It’s been an impossibly long time since anyone had called him by his last name. To everyone here he wa simply  _ Eddie _ \- which was fine with him. It just stroke him as funny.

“Potion making is a tricky matter- I am afraid you won’t be much help with it”, Eddie thought out loud, tapping his index finger against his nose. Richie’s eyes intuitively followed the motion and fixed on the witcher’s freckles, studding the soft looking skin of his face. The imagine of himself planting light kisses on every single one of them involuntarily came to Richie’s mind and he felt a headspinning warmth filling his gut.  _ This is bad, oh, this is really bad _ .

“-powder out of these.”

Richie shook his head, ripping his mind free from how perfectly adorable Eddie was. “Sorry.”   
  


Eddie rolled his eyes and thrusted some dried red-purplish flowers and a wooden pounder into Richie’s hands. “I said, if you want to help me, you can start by making a powder out of these. I picked and dried them a while ago but the powder needs to be very finely grounded in order for the release it’s full potential-”

“Obviously. I too find it easier to  _ release my full potential _ when someone grinds down on me”, Richie interrupted with a smug grin.

“Hilarious”, Eddie replied sarcastically, because much to Richie’s surprise this one didn’t go over his head, before continuing to explain what Richie had to do and how it was ought to be done.

Richie was more than happy to be able to help. When he was still a kid, he would sometimes help his mother in the kitchen. This somehow reminded him of those days. 

Not that Eddie was anything like his mother. Richie felt  _ very much _ different around Eddie than he had felt around his mother.

It was just the sense of domestic peace which made him feel so at home.

While Eddie was standing at the counter, Chopping herbs and squeezing berries with the flat end of a knife, Richie was sitting on the floor next to him, his back leaning against one of the shelves. Eddie had told him more than once that it would probably be more comfortable for Richie to work at the table but Richie prefered the closeness over a chair.

Eddie was humming a tune while rhythmically cutting a notably well-smelling root into small cubes. Richie gently bops his head to it.

Once in a while, Eddie interrupted his humming to check on Richie. 

“How is it going?”

With a smile, Richie tilted the small, wooden bowl so that Eddie could see it’s content. “Going smoothly.”

“Great. Just keep going for a bit longer and it will be perfect.”

With Richie’s spirit boosted, he went back to breaking down the flowers to their molecules, joyfully humming along with Eddie.

Until Eddie interrupted the tune with a quiet curse.

Richie looked up, equally curious and concerned of what caused the sudden change in mood.

“You good?”

“Yeah, yeah”, Eddie sighed, running his fingers through his hair and looking absolutely angelic as he did so. 

“Fuck”, Richie muttered under his breath.

“Hm?”   
“Oh, Nothing!”

Eddie gave him a confused look but Richie’s odd behaviour seemingly wasn’t enough to keep his mind off the problem at hand for long - whatever that problem was. 

He pushed the berries he had begun to crush after the root was done aside and took a towel off the counter to whip his hands. “There is another something I need to get. Can I leave you alone in my place without worrying to come back to my home being a complete mess?”   
“I can’t promise anything”, Richie said with a wide grin, not willing to miss the opportunity to learn more about Eddie’s craft, “Safer if you take me with you.”

“Endearing”, Eddie said as he crossed the room to get his coat and hat. He looked around for a moment before he spotted a velvet sac that he had apparently been searching. Something in the way he said it told Richie that he didn’t really find it that endearing. 

“I am serious though. I can’t bring strangers. And it would only draw matters out. I won’t be long. Please -  _ Please _ \- don’t touch anything.”

Richie’s cheerful mood vanished into thin air.

“Oh, you- you’re serious? You’re- okay”, he nodded, working the pounder harder and keeping his eyes fixed on it while he crushed the flowers.

“Oh, c’mon now, it’s not like I am abandoning you”, Eddie said with the tiniest of chuckled. “I will be back in less than an hour, okay? I promise.”

“Okay…”, Richie muttered, still not looking up. 

He tried hard not to let the rejection get to him. He knew that Eddie was right, that it was nothing personal. But the voices in the back of his head, shadows from past experiences, did dirty things to his mind. 

“Be careful, okay?”, he said, ever so softly.

Eddie smiled and leaned down to hug him goodbye.

It was only a brief touch. swift and light, but it casted a spark between the two of them. Richie knew that Eddie felt it too. 

“I’ll hurry”, the witcher called over his shoulder as he was already half out of the door. And just like that, Richie was alone.

With a sigh, he looked down on the fine flower dust in the pounder, wondering what he was ought to do now. 

**  
  
  
**

The tingling of the warm sun on his skin, as Eddie stepped out of his cabin, couldn’t compare with what was going on inside of him.

He couldn't quite explain the swing in his steps or the joyous tune in his head or the lightheartedness he was feeling. It was a good day, was all. The minor setback in proceeding with the spells did only so little to ruin that. He didn’t need to think about the fact, that Richie’s body so close to his gave him goosebumps to simply enjoy the sense of happiness, so he didn’t think of anything like that.

Even the growing darkness that surrounded him, the further he dug into the untouched parts of the woods couldn’t dim the brightness of his mood.

It was an odd sight, the young man walking in between the grim looking trees with steps so light he might as well be dancing.   
The branches bowed in the gusts of wind that once or twice threatened to sweep Eddie’s hat off. He caught it just in time to prevent it from taking off and, just to be safe, held onto the brim for the rest of the way. Usually he found these playful ways of the forest to welcome him fairly distracting but today it only made him smile more. 

Where other people would begin to feel out of place or even frightened by the almost hostile looking crookedness of the trees and the dark that surrounded them, Eddie knew that this was no place to be feared. At least not for those entering with good intentions.

When Eddie found he was deep enough in the woods, he picked one of the larger rocks on the clearance and checked whether the moss was dry before he took a seat.

He spread his legs out and watched the light dance over his skin before taking his coat off with a swift motion. What many people underestimated was how lovely a coat could do as a portable altar for offerings. He just had to be careful with any kind of open fire but Eddie didn’t like to use that as much anyway. Especially not when he was calling on the spirit he wanted to get in touch with today. 

That one usually prefered the offerings unburned and tasty. 

He let himself slide off the rock and instead placed the velvet sac on top of it, loosening the tie and unfolding the fabric. He set the implements up in front of him, minding the magical areas of the altar-coat he visualised in front of his inner eye.    
The flute to his left, a small wooden box embellished with jade, and right in front of him, the offering. 

It painted a smile on his face as he took the snickers bar out of the sac. No matter how often he offered to the wood’s patron spirit, the m&m packs, oreo cookies or capri suns would never fail to strike him as funny.

Once everything was in the right place, he closed his eyes and took a moment to settle into the situation and still his mind.

The wood’s spirit and him shared a unique spiritual connection that could easily be compared to friendship between humans. Eddie, at this point, enjoyed the company so much that he sometimes connected with the spiritual force that rules the forest simply to offer a cup of tea and a nice chat.    
Today, however, he came with a request he wished to be fulfilled. 

With his mind set on that, focusing his magical energy, he placed the flute on his lips.

In front of his inner eye he pictures the soft tune traveling with the wind, gently tapping branches and bushed, dipping into small rivers and crawling into spaces between rocks, inviting the spirit to a game of hide and seek that ultimately would lead back to him.

A find breeze swirled around his head, carrying the sweet smell of currant and lavender. He knew he wasn’t alone any longer.

As he placed the flute back on its designated spot, Eddie slowly opened his eyes.

In front of him, crossed-legged, sat the spirit, wearing the widest grin on her face. 

Her curled hair shone nearly golden with the fall noon sun reflecting on it. On rainy days it looked nearly copper and in winter, it stood out against the colorless landscape like a homely fire.

The freckles on her cheeks and nose looked like the spotted pattern of morning light breaking through the branchwork and illuminating the forest ground.

The green of her eyes was so beyond-this-world beautiful, so vivid and lively. It took only one glance to see, to really understand, that all the wood’s life lived in her too.

“For me? Aw, Eddie, you shouldn’t have!”, Beverly purred but ripped the packaging off the chocolate bar without further hesitation.

“Really? That’s funny, because last time I came to you, you explicitly asked me for this. I had to send Stan to the nearest village for you.”

She smiled and took a big bite of the candy. With the tip of her ring finger, she whipped a string of thick caramel sauce from the corner of her mouth. “I know. I saw him. He seemed a bit- I don’t know-”

She took enough bite while thinking about a way to put it. “A bit out of tune”, she them explained, mouth still half full. 

Eddie sighed and gently ran his palm over the soft gras. “He is. He is- I mean- he is all at sea, lately. I don’t know what’s wrong or why he doesn’t want to share what happened. Stan has never been someone to peddle his feelings around but-”

He interrupted himself and shook his head.

“That’s not what I am here for. Sorry. I would love to talk this out, especially because you are like, the only other person who knows Stan well enough to figure out a plan to, I don’t know, to help him? Jeez, I mean, I don’t even know for sure that there is something to help him with but- but we have to talk this through a different day because I - I promised someone, a friend, that I would be back as soon as I can so I want to, you know,... make this quick.”

Bev chuckled and licked the remains of the already devoured candy bar off her fingers.

“A friend, huh? You need to tell me about them soon too then. There are hardly any new people around.”

She leaned forwards, hands on her knees and a golden glimmer flashed in her eyes. “What can I do for you today?” 

Eddie picked the small box back up and held it out to Bev.

“I am in need of Peonies. it’s not exactly the time of year to just pick fresh ones and I used the last I had for the potion I made for Stan when he was going through that dark episode a month ago…”

“Do you need them fresh of do you want powder? I mean, The box will only hold, like, two flowers”, she noted as she took the box out of his hands. 

“Yeah, I need fresh ones but it’s fine. Two are more than enough. I don’t need- I mean, I  _ do _ need them for a potion but they are not technically required, it’s just that- you see the potion only works if the consumer gets into it with the necessary optimism and I feel- I feel like that friend I mentioned before- he isn’t the most optimistic type. At least not when it comes to that one issue we are tackling. Apart from that he seems to have a very happy nature. He is super talkative, you know. Like, he talks  _ so  _ much. But- But it’s kinda nice, you know, because he is, like, really interested in what I do and he is also a quick learner and it’s-”

“Eddie”, Bev interrupted with a soft smile. The boys cheeks turned red and he quickly lowered his head as he realised how he had lost track of his thought there. And where his thoughts had been heading. 

“Right, sorry. However, I only need to infuse the potion with it, so two are enough.”

Bev placed the box in her lap. She cupped both hands over it so it was completely hidden.

“You seem very fond of you new friend”, she said as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back a bit so more light fell on her face. 

Eddie’s blush grew deeper and he turned away even though Beverly wasn’t looking at him.

“Yeah, I mean, it’s rather nice to have someone around.”

“He lives with you?”

“Well- yeah. Where else would he live?”

Instead of replying, Bev simply smiled and opened her eyes again. She handed Eddie the box back. 

“Don’t open it until you are home. It’s still growing.”

Eddie nodded and put the box together with the box back into the velvet sac. He got up but Bev made no move to free his coat. 

“Bev, I-”

“Are you gonna introduce me to him soon?”

Eddie rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, as if that could hide from Bev, who knew about every living thing in this forest, how nervous he was for no real reason.

“I’ll see when I get around to it. You can maybe come by for tea the night after tomorrow. Maybe.”

“I’ll see you then”, she said with a wink that Eddie chose not to acknowledge.

Then, as spirits sometimes do, she vanished into a playful swirl of linden leaves and the smell of honey. 

For a few beats, Eddie kept looking at the spot she sat in just seconds ago, then he sighed and picked up his coat. 

“Alright, bye Bev” he said, because he was certain she was still lingering somewhere close and if you don’t bid proper farewell to a spirit they might just come to drop by and, as much as Eddie loved Bev, he would rather not have her in his home uninvitedly. 

Then he turned around and headed home.

**  
  
**

Now Eddie was no stranger to backfired magic.

He had had his fair share of it when he first started learning about potions and magic that required more than willpower. More than once he had been left with his left kitchen table jumping around like a lively foal or had turned himself purple just to name a few situations that stuck with him.

Eddie knew that every spell and especially those in need of ingredients or potions, had a unique smell. Eddie also knew that that smell would turn out less pleasant if it either happened to simply be a not so pleasant spell or, and that was more often, the magic had turned out wrong.

It was only natural for him to get concerned as he entered his front yard and immediately was met with the sickly sweet smell of half rotten blueberries and burned green tea.

What was a lot more frightening than the obviously misfortunate use of magical tools by unskilled hands was the fact that this very fragrance, and the spell that must be connected to it, was entirely new to Eddie. 

**  
  
**

A twinge of panic took a hold of his heart and he sped up his step as he crossed the front yard. Logically he knew that nothing serious could have happened. He would have felt the use of strong magic throughout all of the woods.

Still his heart was fiercely banging in his chest as he swung the door open. 

Much to his surprise, inside his cottage, there was nothing peculiar to see.

Everything was as he had left it. Neater even, for Richie had cleaned the kitchen from the remains of Eddie’s work. 

Now the boy was sitting in the armchair that also was his bed and read a tatty comic.

It was a relief to see Richie well and unhurt. Eddie even felt a bit guilty for accusing him of having done something stupid and endangering himself.

The smell that filled the room still stirred him as icky however.

“Hey Rich,- See, I didn’t take long”, he said with a smile as he places his coat and hat back on the hook by the door and dropped the velvet sac on the kitchen counter.

Richie nodded without looking up from his comic. He raised his index finger to indicate that he was almost finished and Eddie should hold up.

“Right, sorry”, Eddie muttered, even though he found it a bit weird. First Richie didn’t want to let him go and now there wasn’t even a proper greeting. 

Not that it bothered Eddie. Not in the faintest. It just struck him as odd. 

While Richie held his eyes on the colorfully printed pages, Eddie opened a window, hoping the smell would clear away.

“I met a friend on my way”, Eddie stated half-true. “She would like to come by soon. Would you be okay with that? She is really nice- I’m sure you’ll like her.”

The boy nodded, sending his dark curls dance around his head. But he didn’t speak. 

Eddie frowned.    
“Are you mad at me because I left? I thought we were over that-”

Richie shook his head and this time Eddie got as much as a ‘M-mm’

“Then why aren’t you-”

But before Eddie could finished his question, his eyes caught a glimpse of something on his kitchen dresser. It wasn’t much - Richie had put great effort into clearing up the mess he had made - but for Eddie’s trained eye it was near impossible to miss.    
The thin layer of pearly shimmering dust and the few smears of blue, cause by god-knew which plant were not to be misinterpreted.    
  


Slowly, he turned back to Richie. His eyebrow rose and he crossed his arms.

With the tone of a disappointed teacher whose student had talked in class once again he said: “You messed with my magic ingredients, didn’t you?”

Richie’s shoulder dropped. With big and glassy eyes he looked up at his new -and hopefully still - friend. He gave a slow, ashamed nod. 

“What did it do?”

At that, he shook his head. 

With a roll of his eyes, Eddie took a step towards the chair Richie was still sitting in. “I need to know what happened so I can fix it again. I am not mad but you need to talk to me - or did it take your voice?”   
In the last sentence there was a mild wave of panic. There was a whole cluster of muting spells. None of them easily redone. He would need to find an expert for that because, as confident as he was in his own skills, getting tangled up with human functions like this was a whole different thing. If he messed up-

“It’d didn’t take my voice”, Richie interrupted Eddie’s rising panic.   
Instead, now the young witcher’s stomach cramped with held back laughter.

When Richie opened his mouth, together with the words came out a billow of soap bubbles. Smaller and bigger ones danced through the air around Richie’s head, reflecting light in all colors of the rainbow.    
When one floated against Eddie’s nose, there was no holding back anymore. The boy burst out and laughed until he had to hold his belly.

“This isn’t funny!”, Richie called, accompanies but another huge load of bubbled, but he was laughing too.   
He couldn’t help it. Eddie just looked too adorable like this. His freckled face illuminated by his bright laugh, shiny globes framing him and casting colorful spills of light on his hair and features - it looked like a vision for a surreal, beautiful dream.   
Also, bubbles were streaming out of his mouth when he talked. That’s simply hilarious.    
  
With a wide grin, Richie got up and wrapped an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, pulling him closer.    
“Ay, you know, they don’t call me trashmouth for nothin’”, he exclaimed, impersonating the voice of an old sailor. “That’s what comes with having to wash your mouth out with soap once too often, kiddo. Better watch that mouth of yours before you end up in deep water.”

Little tears formed in the corners of Eddie’s eyes, that’s how hard he was laughing.

Richie went on. 

“But how was I supposed to know that you can’t drink the bubble bath?!”, he asked, this time with the infuriated voice of a pouty child. “If they don’t want anyone to drink it, then why would they make it so it smells like raspberry and vanilla?!”   
  


“Oh god, stop!”, Eddie giggled, holding onto Richie’s shoulder. 

“Who are you to tell me what to do, tiny creature?”, Richie asked, his voice dark and demanding this time. “ _ Me _ , the eternal protector of the floaty crystal globes. It is true, Fool, I might not have the breath of fire like all the other dragons do, but be sure, my weapon is in no way less dreadful!”

And with that he blew a load of bubbles right into Eddie’s face.    
  


As he turned the witcher towards him, Richie’s hand went to his hip. Eddie, trying to duck away from the bubbly attack, now had both hands on Richie’s shoulders and for a second there he was so close, his taller boy’s heart skipped a beat.    
His face was only inches away from his one. He could feel the warmth Eddie’s body was radiating.  _ Oh no… _

After a few more moments, the witcher got his giggling back under control and ran a hand over his face. His cheeks were still rosy and his eyes filled with life.

Controlling his urge to kiss the other man would have asked more off of Richie than he had to offer, so he didn’t. He pulled Eddie close one more time and pressed his lips to the freckle studded cheek.

“Awww, ain’t you just a  _ Cutie _ ?”

The smile dropped out of Eddie’s face and his blush grew deeper, not with a amusement but embarrassment this time. He turned away and pushed Richie off of him.    
“Shut up.”   
Richie smirked. He saw that glimmer in the other’s eyes, heard the tiny crack in his voice. Perhaps his chances weren’t that bad after all. At least, he would like to believe that. 

He was taken out of it, as Eddie cleared his throat and ran his hands over his shirt, straightening nonexistent wrinkles.

“Anyway-”, he said, once his voice was stable again and the blush had almost faded, “What exactly did you throw together to get  _ this _ kind of result?”

** A shrug was all Richie had to offer as an answer. “Like I would know. I got curious and tasted some of the leaves.”   
“Why?”   
“They smelled edible.”   
  
This was followed by a long pause.    
“They  _ smelled edible _ ?”, Eddie repeated disbelievingly. Richie shrugged again. “This could have killed you, you know that?”   
“Yeah, but it could have also made me glow in the dark so it was worth a shot”, Richie replied with a sunny grin. He wasn’t going to admit that he had in fact not thought about it. Looking at it now, it only seemed logical, that some magical ingredients could be poisonous.  _ Whoops _ .    
  
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Eddie sighed and shook his head.    
Then he took Richie’s hand, leading him to the counter. The touch made Richie’s heart flutter.    
“Come on. Let’s get this fixed somehow…”   
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to briefly apologies for the Long pause between this and the last chapter. You all have probably noticed how crazy the world went lately so bare with me.   
> The fanfiction is still ongoing however, it wasn't cancelled and it won#t be anytime soon. I have plans!


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